रूह

काश कुछ ऐसा हो जाए

ये वक्त चलता रहे,

ये लम्हे चलते रहें,

ये पहर चलता रहे,

बस मेरी उम्र थम जाए।

मैं समेट लूँ सारी यादें,

मैं सहेज लूँ सारे पलों को,

देख लूँ जी भर के

उन आँखों को,

इस दुनिया में जिनसे सबसे पहले रूबरू हुआ।

मैं थाम लूँ उस ऊंगली को

जो कभी मुझे थामे चली थी।

वो खिलखिलाती हँसी

जो कभी मेरे साथ खेली थी।

बस इतनी सी ही तो ख्वाहिश है,

बे-वक्त के इस मुसाफिर की।

छोटी सी राह का जिसका

बस तीसरा हिस्सा है बाकी।।

आकर क़रीब अपनों के और थोड़ा,

कुछ और अच्छा कर जाऊँ।

छोटे से इस सफर के

सुकून भरे पलों को

यादों में पिरो जाऊँ।

या फिर

रहकर दूर उनसे,

ग़म के बवन्डर से बचाने को उनको,

बेरूखी वाला मुखौटा ओढ़ जाऊँ।।

रहगुज़र हूँ तेरा,

कि तूने जो भी दिया

झोली भर के दिया।

रहगुज़र हूँ तेरा,

कि दिये हुए हौसले से तेरे

अपने दम पर कुछ किया।

रहगुज़र हूँ तेरा,

कि कई ख्वाबों को अपने

मैंने हकी़कत में जिया।

रहगुज़र हूँ तेरा,

कि जरा से वक्त में ही

तेरे होने को समझ लिया।

ईबादतग़ार हूँ तेरा

शिकायतग़ार नहीं,

कि अलग बनाकर भी तूने

खास बना दिया।। — रूह

This poem is the best gift i have ever received from someone. someone whom i have grown to adore and respect not only for the fitful exuberance but also for the Indefatigable deftness in distilling soulful and picturesque emotion by the infallible sagacity in choice of words that eloquently succour the baroque and beguiling poems.

Thanks M ,

By the way this only of the poems from M rest assured 100’s more to come…..

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The Daily Commute

It’s 2 am. I have to get up at 5 to go to my mundane job yet here I am rumbling about it to strangers. What to do? It’s one of those nights where my thought train is off the rails and to slow them down, I have to enter them into this obelisk with black mirror. I think that last cup of coffee at 12 is to blame for this insomniacal banter.

What the heck was I thinking, “Coffee” before bed?

But perhaps it’s the early onset of summer that’s more to blame. I so loathe this godforsaken noise machine, my ass of a fan. I am seriously missing the warmth of my blankets and silence of cold nights when I didn’t have to switch on this buzz kill. Ironically as the winter will approach, I will once again find it difficult to sleep without the white noise from it.

Isn’t it funny how we complain about things? Then miss, missing them once we have them.

hmmm…….
Interesting my thoughts and keystrokes are not syncing. As I type, my thoughts keep on bouncing off in another direction.

Here I am punching keys, lodging complaint against my fan while my thoughts crunch sleep span numbers. I guess, I better sleep now if I am to have at least 2.5 hours sleep instead of waking-up groggy for a job that I hate to being with. After all, I can always continue this blabber during my commute to the office.

Zzzz….Zzzz….Zzzz….Zzzz….Zzzz….Zzzz….Zzzz….Zzzz….Zzzz….Zzzz….Zzzz….Zzzz…

5:45 AM and am back, half asleep and already frustrated about the job. But what can we do, after all, money trumps all?

Anyways, I love the city at this time of the day. It’s all so serene. Ruffled only by a soothing cold morning breeze. Car rides at this irksome hours always make me feel like a vagabond.

As the car glides through the glistening streets with yellow tints of sodium lights, the windshield is crisscrossed by streaks of light from the lamp posts, drenching the insides in a rain of light, drawing eerie figurines on the face. The rumble of engine echoes away into the shimmering aura of dawn as the petrichor of morning dew rushes in through the gaps of the window creating a symphony of smell, titillating the soul. The soft transcendental music on the stereo adds flare to the morning mist, melting the ire into the proverbial bliss.

As the car approaches city limits, occasional sights of passers-by measuring the lonely streets and fitness enthusiasts throbbing to the beats give away to the evangelist cycling brigades. And as the car whizzes past this brigade it illuminates their path with the headlights gleaming off of lane reflectors, instigating an impromptu reaction, Let there be light.

When the car hits the bridge over the river, the whistling of the wind hitting the car is suddenly replaced by a rumpling roar as if the wind is knocking on your window to greet you with an exhilarating picturesque view.

A half-moon reflects on the murky river water at the fringes of the cityscape while the orange glow of sodium vapors diffuses with the molten silvery glow bouncing off the fleets of boats floating on the ebbing waters. While you hold your breath to wonder in awe, glorious moonbeams shower the earth in rays that cast out to touch the rocky surface overshadowing a distant and ominous pale orange glow of the vanishing cityscape on the horizon.

Overwhelmed by this glimpse of heaven, when you turn your head to the other window. Construction docks and a giant candle grabs your attention. The distant and muffled clickity-clack of industrial hammers shaping metal into giant engineering marvels irritates your auditory canal while the angry and raging flames like that of the mount Mordor lights up the other end of the bridge.

As soon as the car gets off the bridge; a distinct smell of burning sulfur jostles you into the mortal world from the realm of fairy tales. Once again you start hearing the honking of trucks and trailers overtaking while blindingly bright beams of light irradiate your corneas.

Your car is engulfed by a smog of pollution, looming over the highway acting as a translucent curtain blurring the hard lines of buildings while dancing incandescent dust particles trace path to the sources of light making them dance. [brownian motion, Tyndall effect, corpuscular rays etc. it’s all coming back to me].

This limited visibility and the death wish of random fools trying to cross the dimly lit road against the blinding light from headlights of oncoming traffic always gives an adrenaline rush and awakening your hidden talent as that of a speed racer.

As the car rolled-on to the overpass, the sun began to announce its reign. The bright street signs and billboard rivaling sun at night once again, gave their best shot at outshining him. The bluish black pallet of the night begins to surrender to the violets and reds of the dawn filling the sky and splashing the clouds with endless rays of pink. This pure scattered light and accompanying hues ambitiously began illuminating each crevice of the land.

But as the car descended to the bottom of the overpass, the bright and mesmerizing view inviting to stare, deep into the horizon got obscured only to reappear at the next overpass.

From the top of this overpass, distant and towering industrial complex shines as if it was wearing golden crowns and the green fields preceding its fences radiate bright tints of sun-kissed greens. Brilliant gold and orange hues bleed like fire as the first slither of the sun peek above the skyline, gradually raising to a defined circle on a vibrant backdrop of the pristine waters glittering like liquid gold in the reservoirs below the cooling towers of the power plant.

As the car once again descended to the bottom, the faint chirping of sparrows begin to intermingle with the chorus of industrial sirens when the chauffer squeaked, “Sir, we have arrived.”

What is Excitement

The anticipation of something new or unknown is always much more euphoric than that thing itself. Your imagination goes into a frenzy, painting vivid and ebullient pictures of the events about to unfold. You feel giddy, butterflies start titillating your innermost desires, enticing feelings like that, of a new love or the passion of a consummated one. Summoning emotions that transcend mendacity of this pretentious world, absolving you of your dark desires. Yielding an amalgamation of thoughts with emotions & desires that elates you into a trans, as if you have achieved nirvana and are ready to ascend to a final abode.

Excitement is a drug so powerful that even morphine seems like an overrate artisanal water. The whirlwind of thoughts, comotion of emotions and beguilement of desires, that it entrails are like the ubiquitous longing of a chronic methhead. You start contemplating the improbable; imploring to elements to incite time dilation. So, that you can have both the physical and the metaphysical experiences at once.

Though it is hard to comprehend or possibly explain such longings. Perhaps our inner child could explain it as we adults are overly-cautious and intensely disturbed about the directions of our own thrills. Unfortunately and Ironically, the baroque explanations pulled from deepest childhood memories, are so odd to ourselves, that we unwittingly try to repress them.

Enthusiasms arising from excitement is so overwhelming that we thwart for in its obviation. This may sound odd but this enthusiasm is in fact motivated by a search for extrication of truth and eloquence. It not only paints a utopian perspective of things about to unfold but, also provides solutions to the thing we fear; making us feel more at ease, more relaxed and true to ourselves.